And then make love.

No sex, only love.

And with that I mean kisses lips on my mouth,

on the neck, on the belly, on the back,

the bites on the lips, the hands clasped,

and eyes in eyes.

I mean hugs so tight

to become one,

bodies stuck and colliding souls,

caresses on scratches, clothes taken together with fears,

kiss on the weaknesses,

on the signs of a life

which until then had been a bit wrong.

I mean fingers on bodies, create constellations,

inhale perfumes, hearts that beat together,

breaths that travel at the same rate,

and then smiled,

sincere after a while that they were no longer.

Behold, make love, and be not ashamed,

because love is art, and you masterpieces.

A. Merini
Mario Kiedywiosna